Something of Yours
by Zela
Summary: Crowley is confronted by wrathful divinity after trying to take something that isn't his to take. The issue is resolved, but who has really won?


Title: Something of Yours  
  
or  
  
Twisted Love  
  
Rating: PG-13 Not for violence or sex, I just think the issues are a little dark.  
  
Disclaimer: Crowley and Aziraphale belong to Pterry and Gneil, God and Michael belong to God. If you recognise anything else, chances are I stole it. Original concept is mine, please don't take without permission.  
  
Summary: Crowley is confronted by wrathful divinity after trying to take something that isn't his to take. The issue is resolved, but who has really won?  
  
A/N: This was written after Chess inspired me to write some GO poetry. The poetry I did write was OK, but I felt like it could be expanded upon, and this story emerged from the feelings I got whilst writing the poem. The poem itself is from Crowley's point of view and it talks about his relationship with his Creator, both before and after the fall. Quite angsty.  
  
/With just a thought you lifted me (far above what I was, dreaming I could fly)  
  
I was divine, I flew for you (higher than the others, reaching for your heart)  
  
You held me up, forgave my slips (cradled in your arms, taking all you gave)  
  
You were all I wanted, I was yours (drowning in your love, clinging onto you)/  
  
It was dark outside. Inside one lamp glowed faintly, kept on only by the demon's faintly interested will.  
  
"Crowley."  
  
Crowley turned his head to see the archangel Michael standing at the door, wings and all.  
  
"Amazzzing," Crowley said insolently, his eyes suddenly glowing far more golden than before, as though in challenge. "You got my name right."  
  
Michael frowned slightly. "There is no need for insolence, /Crawly/."  
  
Crowley smiled at the change. It was a warning, but he didn't feel particularly inclined to heed it. Making sure he pronounced his hiss, he said, "Ssso, /Micky/, what brings you to thiss corner of the universsse?" It was a redundant question, but it annoyed the arrogant snob.  
  
"We want you to stop, Crawly," Michael said sternly.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"You know what I mean. Stop tempting Aziraphale."  
  
"Now, why would I want to do that?" Crowley asked languidly. "I'm an agent of Hell, aren't I? I'm /sssupposed/ to tempt."  
  
"You haven't been much of an agent," Michael said. "Looking at your track record, there's at least three hundred records of divine visitations, two hundred Christmas miracles, seven thousand rescued cats and fifty three conversions to Christianity. And that's only in the last six centuries."  
  
Crowley shrugged. "And if you look at Aziraphale'sss record you'll find jussst as many records of bad deedsss done. Probably more, in fact. He's always believed repaying a favour tenfold iss the right thing to do. Even if that meanss doing multiple acts of evil. Twisssted logic, but that's angels for you, isn't it?" He sneered.  
  
Michael shuddered inwardly. That on-off hissing was really getting on his nerves. "Aziraphale can be forgiven for being - innocent," he said. "As, technically, he is correct. You, however, would not get off so easily if Hell were to find out."  
  
"Oh, I don't know. They'd be angry for a while, sure, but getting an angel to fall would sssurely make up for that." Crowley flashed a dazzling smile at the representative of Heaven. "Don't you think?"  
  
"Perhaps," Michael answered. Then, in the tone of one bringing out the big guns, he said casually, "But even that, I think, would not make up for the Agreement. We know of your deal with the angel, Crawly. And if you do not give up your attempts to corrupt our representative Hell will soon know as well."  
  
Crowley seemed to consider this. "But then Azzziraphale will have to be punished too," he pointed out.  
  
"Perhaps. But punishment is better than falling. And at least he would be away from your ministrations."  
  
"Not if he'd fallen. And besssides, I don't think Hell would be as angry as you believe. After all, who'sss to say I've stuck to the Agreement? After all, you ssseem to forget what I am. I'm /meant/ to steal and cheat and lie." He paused, bitterly. "/Remember/?"  
  
Michael was getting confused. The kind of fighting he was used to was the sword on sword type and this play of words baffled him. It became even worse when Crawly turned on the offensive.  
  
"Anyway, with all the quessstions you've been asking, I think we've missed a few important onesss." He leaned forward, suddenly interested in the conversation. "Like why you're being ssso protective of the angel."  
  
Michael hesitated. "Protective? I don't know what you mean!"  
  
"Oh yes you do." A rough chuckle started in the back of his throat. "You're not good with wordsss, are you Michael? You ssee, your first misstake was to mention the angel by name. Shows a personal interest, see? Then you started bringing in the threatsss before I'd even refusssed. Eager to close the deal and prevent anything happening to your precious angel. And all you've really done is convinccce me I should keep up with my work. Congratulationss!"  
  
Michael looked, if possible, even more confused. But there was worry mixed with the confusion. "I really don't know what you're talking about!" he blurted. "All I do is what I'm told!"  
  
Crowley grinned. "Gotcha!"  
  
/Without a thought you let me fall (screaming down, smothered with shock)  
  
You gave me fear, anger, hate (crawling in the depths, your face turned away)  
  
You stripped away my divinity (never fly now, you're always there)  
  
Your wrathful gaze holds me down here (where was your hand to break my fall?)/  
  
And then Michael's face went curiously blank. It only happened for a moment, but immediately after everything had changed. Where before the archangel had had presence, now he had PRESENCE, the kind that makes you think burning bushes and forty-day rains. Someone else had a hold of his body.  
  
"What are you doing, Camael?" the voice from coming from Michael's mouth asked.  
  
Crowley's lip curled back to reveal pointed teeth.. "Don't call me that! It'ss Crawly now. Nicce to meet you. The name'ss quite apt, don't you think? Lucccifer gave it to me. He ssaid it sssuited that one who had flown ssso high would now crawl sso low. Crawly. Crawl. Quite a joke, yess? Ha ha." His voice was low and self-mocking.  
  
There was a pause. Then, sounding pained, the voice said, "I'm sorry, Camael. Morningstar should not have taken his anger out on you."  
  
"I told you, it'ss Crawly. And why should you be sssorry? It's not like you could have done anything about it, oh no, after all we all had free will in thosse dayss, didn't we?" His voice was hysterical and wild with sarcasm.  
  
"Cam - Crawly -"  
  
"Don't."  
  
There was a long pause. "Crawly, what are you doing?"  
  
"I'm taking your angel from you, what doesss it look like I'm doing?"  
  
"Why, Crawly?"  
  
"I'm a demon. It'ss what I /do/. We lie, we ssteal, we cheat, we tempt and we are never forgiven. You should know all about it. You made me thiss way." He paused. "And I won't sstop. I'm outssside your jurissdiction now."  
  
The voice sounded desperate. "Why /him/ Crawly? There are plenty of angels more easily tempted. Plenty of angels on the brink of falling."  
  
Crowley grinned maniacally. "Well, that brings usss to the interessting point, doessn't it? Why /him/? Why /hasssn't/ he fallen? Why /hasssn't/ he been sssent, ripped and tortured, down to join my brethren and I? Why hass /he/ been punished, why hass /he/ been ssent to earth, thiss apparent cccessspool of corruption? Why apparently keep the one you are always disspleasssed with, when you sent /thosse you claimed to love down to hell!?!/" The demon's eyes grew wild and his voice ripped through the room. After a moment he grew calm again. "He believess you have turned your facce from him, that earth wasss a punishment. He's sssuch an innoccent." His eyes grew shrewd. "And that'sss why you gave him earth, issn't it? Becausse down here, away from the politicss and backssstabbing of heaven, he will sstay pure. He will ssstay innocccent. He will sstay the angel who is sso different from the ressst, who doesss good insstead of what you tell him, becausse he honessstly believess you are a good God and that what you want iss what isss besst for the people. You love him becaussse he isss an innocccent." His voice grew low. "/And I will take him from you becaussse you love him ssso./"  
  
Michael's face looked appalled.  
  
"But, Crawly -"  
  
"No," Crowley shook his head emphatically.  
  
"Please Crawly! What of your own feelings for the angel? I know you care for him!"  
  
Crowley shrugged. "I'll get over it eventually. There are other angelsss, after all. . Wassn't that what you ssaid when you were organissing the Fall?"  
  
Michael reeled back as though slapped. "Crawly -" he gasped.  
  
Crowley turned his back on the incensed angel.  
  
"I can stop you Crawly!"  
  
"No," Crowley said, walking to the window, "You can't." He looked briefly over his shoulder, becoming calmer every time the other being became enraged. "You've already lost. Otherwissse you wouldn't be here. You're fighting a rearguard action, and you know it. He'ss mine. I've taken him."  
  
"No. I would know."  
  
"Oh, not completely. He's not an agent of Hell. Yet. No, my victory was far more - perssonal. When I say he's mine, I mean, he's mine. And I didn't even have to try. He practically gave himssself to me." He turned, pitying. "He wass ssuch a pure sssoul."  
  
"No."  
  
"Yess."  
  
"No."  
  
"/Yes/."  
  
"NO."  
  
"Accept it," Crowley snapped. "He lovess me."  
  
"You can't /do/ this!"  
  
"Yess, I can. You'd be surprised how much I can do. I can make you leave, for example. While in that body, you are imperfect."  
  
"What?"  
  
"The discussion's ended. Leave."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Go."  
  
"Crawly-" the voice, and Michael with it, started to fade.  
  
Crowley's lips twisted. "Ta ta."  
  
"Camael - " Over half of the angel was gone.  
  
"Run along now."  
  
"Crawly! You don't understand! Love is eternal! Even Morningstar still feels what we had! Aziraphale MUST love me!" The voice twisted into nothingness, echoed, and disappeared for good.  
  
Crowley stared at the space for a longtime. "No," he said quietly, "/you/ don't understand. You created, you observed, you loved, and you destroyed. And you thought you were just changing us, and you were right, in a way. But we are imperfect, just little clay figures in the sand, and to us, it was a warping that twisted us so it was to the point of destroying all we were. And you couldn't remove our love, but your alteration of us changed it's purpose. You don't understand how dark an emotion can become with the right motivation. So Lucifer loves you. But he hates you, because you warped him and abandoned him and he can't stop loving you, even though he has every reason to. Why do think he goes out of his way to destroy you? But he doesn't know you the way I do, because he was always with you. I watched and adored from far away, and I /know/ how to get to you. And the angel will love you. I can promise you that. It wouldn't be the same if it wasn't the twisted love of the sodomite, or the generalised love of the insane. It wouldn't show you what just one little change can do. It wouldn't hurt as much."  
  
He sighed and went to his bed, imagining his total revenge and screaming inside because his casting down had driven him to this.  
  
"Because you betrayed me and because I can't help but love you anyway."  
  
/Where was your hand to break my fall?/ 


End file.
